


The Other Side

by SummahWriter



Series: Unconditionally [10]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21720406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummahWriter/pseuds/SummahWriter
Summary: Tony has been away from NCIS for the entire summer, until a case from his early days as an agent comes back to haunt him and he has to return to D.C in order to keep his family safe. But the bad guys are not the only demons he's fighting. Tony/OC, McGee/Delilah. Post "Slowly Fading Away", post s13 AU. No Tali or Tiva.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Original Female Character(s), Delilah Fielding/Timothy McGee
Series: Unconditionally [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/231828
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**The Other Side**

_**Alexandria, Virginia, January, 2002** _

The back door slammed shut. Leroy Jethro Gibbs listened as footsteps could be heard in his kitchen above, and then as they travelled down the steps into the basement.

"You don't lock your door?" Anthony DiNozzo asked, looking mildly bewildered and amused at the same time. "Not afraid of who can walk off the street are you, Gibbs?"

"That's why I have this," Gibbs said, gesturing towards his gun nearby. "What brings you by, Tony? It's Saturday. Figured you'd be out with Wendy."

Tony shrugged his shoulders and sat down at the work bench. "She's unhappy with the move to Washington. I know she'll get over it; stress from the wedding planning doesn't help. I told her to keep it simple, but well, Wendy has never been simple. Anyways, thought you'd like to know—the FBI called me. They picked up Merchant. Found him at some bar with a fake I.D."

Gibbs licked his lips and felt some weight lift off his shoulders. One case closed. Another killer off the street. "That's good. When are they going to hand him over to us?"

"FBI promised me Monday morning."

"Monday? I hope you told them we don't wait around for them."

"Something like that. They're bringing him to NCIS now—if you're free."

The former marine tossed his sandpaper aside, finished his beer, and gestured for Tony to start back up the stairs. He didn't care that it was Saturday. If he had the chance to put Tommy Merchant in jail for his crimes, then he was going to be the man to do it. "Let's go, DiNozzo, we have a case to finish."

Behind him, Tony followed behind, years later Gibbs was going to tell the young man that he like a loyal Saint Bernard, right now the snarky detective was proving to be one of the best agents that Gibbs had trained. He'd certainly been the only one that had lasted longer than two weeks. It was a relationship that both men were going to come to cherish—and take for granted.

* * *

_**Nantucket, August 2016** _

Late summer had graced the shores of Cape Cod. Families had started to leave their vacation homes for the mainland, school would be starting soon, the few that remained on the Cape were those that were going to soak up every ray of sunshine that they could.

Anthony DiNozzo sat in the sand, khaki pants rolled up to his knees, sandals in his hand, white button down shirt blowing in the sea breeze and watched as the woman and little boy played among the shallow pools left by the tide moving out. His wife's hair had turned almost blonde in the summer sun, flowing behind her as she chased their son through the salty water. Her denim capris were getting damp and her navy-blue tank top brought out the tanned hue to her skin.

Their son, who learned how to walk over the summer, struggled to stay on his feet, determined even when he fell face first into the pool.

Leah would scoop him up and put him back on his feet and Jack would take off waddling again, trying to keep up with the family's new dog. Over the course of this summer, a summer where they had been healing, Lincoln had accidently come into their lives when he'd wandered onto their summer property. After that, there was no turning the pup into a shelter.

Soon, the family would be returning to Washington. Leah had to go back to George Washington University, and truthfully, Tony needed to get back to NCIS. However, nothing was pulling him there. He kept in touch, mostly with Tim, and things seemed to be holding together just fine without Tony. Perhaps, the agent didn't need to return to NCIS at all… Tony and Leah had discussed what he could do instead… months ago before he'd even been shot…

Carrying a soaking wet Jack, Leah made her way towards Tony in the sand, Lincoln following behind her, tail wagging. "I think it's time we headed back to the house and had dinner," his wife said.

Pulling himself to his feet, Tony brushed the sand from his backside and nodded. "Been a busy day, playing at the beach. Think you got a little color on your cheeks," he teased noticing their pink hue.

"I was too busy making sure Jack had sunscreen on, I forgot mine," Leah said with a shrug.

"Later, I'll put some aloe on it," Tony said kissing her cheek softly. "Wish this summer didn't have to end."

"But it has too," she pointed out, watching as Tony put the leash on the dog. "We need to get home."

"Ome?" Jack questioned, then grinned because he knew how excited his parents got when he said new things.

Tony smiled, sadly at him. He started working up the beach towards the road that would lead back to the house. His son had not known home, they'd moved out of their apartment, into a new house, then gone to Italy and now had been on Nantucket for the last few weeks, soaking up the summer sun. "Washington," he told the toddler, "Mama has a whole new group of college students to shape and mold and teach about the world."

Leah shifted Jack on her hip as they walked back towards their summer home. "Tony," she said, firmly, "I'm not the only one that has to return to work. You don't think it might be time for you to give NCIS a call? We've been traveling all summer and I know Director Vance worked something out with Human Resources… but we have a baby to take care of now and our savings isn't going to last forever."

His shoulders heaved with a sigh. This had been a conversation they had been having since the end of July, when they returned from a two-week trip to Italy with his father. "I haven't talked to them much; Tim and Abby email me, and Reeves sends me a note to let me know that he's keeping my desk warm. But other than that, I haven't heard a peep."

"Gibbs doesn't email," Leah reminded him. "And I'm sure they've been busy."

" _Gibbs_ doesn't do any communication these days," Tony said. "Tim says it's like he's put up a force field."

"A what?"

"Force field— _Star Trek._ Can take the geek out and make him a great agent, but you can take the geek out of him."

Leah saw the obvious in front of her. Why didn't Tony? She pulled the gate to their house open and headed up the walk, lined with white daisies. "Tony…" she started to say, but was stopped by him when he placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. She then noticed the rental car in their driveway parked behind her SUV. "We weren't expecting anyone, were we?"

Tony shook his head and handed her Lincoln's leash. "Stay here. I'll go check it out," he told her. Leaving his family standing on the front walk, Tony quietly crept around towards the back porch. Nothing seemed out of place, but years of being in law enforcement had taught him that sometimes that didn't mean a damn thing. Ziva was a perfect example of someone that could slither around without disturbing anything…

"Boss?"

"DiNozzo. Sounds like you were expecting someone else."

If he was being honest, he thought for a split second he was going to find Ziva. Tony shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I wasn't expecting anyone at all. Why are you here?"

Gibbs leaned forward in the lounge chair he was sitting on. "Thought it was better if you heard the news in person than in a phone call or email."

Tony's heart slammed against his chest. Who was dead _this_ time? Death seemed to be the only news that was passed around to him these days. "Are McGee and Ellie okay?" he asked, anxiously.

"McGee and Bishop are fine. Back in Washington working on something with Reeves," Gibbs answered.

"Ducky have another heart attack?" Tony sputtered.

"No one died, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped. "At least not yet. Tommy Merchant was let out of prison."

Floods of memories hit Tony square on. He had been just a probie back then, working alongside Gibbs solo. There was no Kate or McGee, hell, Vivian hadn't even joined the team yet. Tommy Merchant had been a kid, seventeen, but due to the nature of his crime, he had been tried and convicted as an adult. "Let out of prison for what? Good behavior?"

Gibbs shrugged. He wasn't concerned with the why, just the what. "My guess, his mother finally got that insanity plea to stick on appeal. Sources tell me he was sent to a psychiatric facility."

Tony took the steps up the porch and leaned against the rail. "You cannot rehabilitate a sociopath, Gibbs. He'll find a way out, he'll work the system, and then what… kill some more?"

"Chance he already did. That's why I'm here. We need you on this case, DiNozzo."

"Boss, I'm flattered, but I'm not ready yet."

"Leah and the baby seem fairly adjusted. You're not?"

"No, it's… it's taking longer than I thought to wrap my brain around…everything…"

Leah suddenly peeked her head around the corner, Lincoln hiding behind her legs and Jack sleeping against her shoulder. "Are we allowed to move now?" she asked, looking at Tony with a bit of a frown. "I have a tired baby and a hungry puppy."

Tony nodded, sheepishly. He had forgotten Leah was standing out front thanks to his surprise of finding Gibbs on the porch. She climbed the stairs with Lincoln, unlocked the house and stepped inside. He listened to the dog happily barking at his wife through the screen door; Jack woke up and started to whine and then giggled, probably because the dog had leapt up and licked his face. _I'm not ready yet,_ Tony thought again, even as he asked, "Who do you think Mercant killed?"

Gibbs glanced back at the house, wanting to know the story about the dog and how the family had come to get him, but decided it was best to just talk about the case. "Patricia Wakefield."

"His lawyer? Why is NCIS involved if this is a civilian case?"

"Working with Metro on it. There's concern he's going after the people he feels responsible for putting him in jail."

"So, that means I have a big, fat, red target mark on my back."

"Me too. As well as Ducky and Abby—their findings helped seal the deal."

Tony sat down and rubbed his hands over his face. If Merchant was targeting everyone involved with his case, that meant Leah and Jack could be in danger as well just because of their relationship to him. In the end, he was left with no choice. "Guess it doesn't matter if I'm ready, huh?" _I need to keep my family safe._

Gibbs wished he didn't have to force Tony back into the office, but he did. The team needed Tony on this case and maybe, just maybe it was enough of a wakeup call for the senior field agent that he belonged at NCIS. "When we wrap this case up, if you still need some time, Vance has agreed to give it to you. We want your leave to end when _you're_ ready Tony, not when we are."

"Leah's been after me to get back to D.C," the younger man stated.

"So I've heard," the former marine drawled.

Tony smiled, sadly. "She call you?" Gibbs nodded. Tony shook his head, gently. "Should have known. Guess I'm going home to D.C, boss." _Now is as good a time as ever._


	2. Chapter 2

Crickets provided the background music for the evening as the smell of citronella permeated the cool, crisp ocean air. There was only a fading pink streak left in the sky and through the open windows of the house the two men sitting on the back porch could hear soft notes of a lullaby.

Gibbs had quietly and humbly accepted Leah's invitation to stay for dinner, which then had turned into staying the night because she couldn't let him drive back to Boston this late. He was glad he had stayed because he was seeing her concerns for Tony up close and personal.

Tony was pretty much silent. In all the years that Gibbs had known the younger man, he had never seen Tony quiet. Gibbs knew that being shot and nearly dying had certainly punched the SFA in the gut—he just never imagined it had punched him so much that it had knocked the wind completely out of his sails.

"If I hadn't shown up, would you have come back to D.C tomorrow?" Gibbs questioned, breaking the silence.

"If Tommy Merchant wasn't in the picture, you mean?" Tony countered, quietly.

"No offense, DiNozzo, you seem pretty content to wallow."

"Wallowing seems like a fitting sentence."

He was puzzled by this answer. Did Tony actually think he should be punished? Gibbs could not find a single thing in this situation to blame the senior field agent for. He'd been shot by a psychopath that later went after his wife; the only harm Tony had done to himself was stopping for the night in a snowstorm and picking the wrong motel to stay at.

Sipping his beer and slouching further down in the wicker patio chair, Tony gazed at the house when Leah's lullaby had stopped. He fell back into silence, thinking about the last few hours, hell, even slipping further back and thinking about the last _thirteen_ years. "Would you have shown up if Tommy Merchant hadn't been released from prison?"

Gibbs adverted his eyes. Certainly Leah's phone call a few days ago had raised some concerns but he had work. He couldn't just up and leave D.C to track Tony down, mentally slap him on the back of the head to get him moving… "Would you have come home if I just showed up out of the blue?"

Tony shrugged his broad shoulders. He wasn't in any rush to get back to Washington, even with the news of Merchant's alleged latest killing. "Leah has to go back to the University soon; classes start after Labor Day."

"Leah has to return to Washington, but would you go with her if you didn't have a reason?"

"I would have to go back with her; she'd have the car. I can't stay here without a car."

"Were you planning to be a house husband for the rest of your life?" Gibbs asked. _Come on, Tony. Snap out of this!_

"Being a happy little house husband is a lot safer than being a federal agent," Tony said, drily.

He couldn't argue with that logic and if Tony didn't want to be a federal agent anymore, that was fine with him, but Gibbs needed to know that it was fine with Tony. At this moment in time the team leader wasn't even sure if Tony was _fine_. The younger man was certainly acting like he was not. "You're good at what you do, Tony. You could train, teach. No one says you have to jump back out into the field."

Lips pursed, Tony narrowed his eyes on Gibbs. "Everyone wants to push me back into work. What if I don't want to work?" he challenged. "What if I rather like not having any other responsibilities but taking care of my family?"

Gibbs sighed and leaned forward. "No one is pushing you, DiNozzo…"

Tony snarled and threw his empty beer bottle into the nearby open trash bin. It clanged against the sides on the way down. "Really? No one? Leah asks me every…single…day… when I'm going back, she calls you, you show up… you don't really _need_ me for this case, boss. You're just using it to shove me out the door!"

His outburst of anger surprised Gibbs. Tony was usually calm. He thought back to the evening of Kate's death, perhaps the only time he'd seen Tony react with such rage and anger when they couldn't find Ari after the bastard had fired into the lab. The rage had passed relatively quickly and Gibbs had never given it another thought… until now. "If you don't want to come back…"

Smoldering green eyes captured the faint light of the candles, but just enough that Gibbs could see the fire. "I don't," he snapped, "but I don't have a choice!"

"There's always a choice."

"Like hell there is! There's never a choice with this job! It's either kill or be killed!"

Gibbs stared at Tony. During their phone conversation Leah had mentioned Tony's outbursts of anger that seemed to come from out of nowhere somedays. She said they were never directed at Jack and he never raised a hand to her… she was incredibly terrified to see what her husband was going through. There were more underlying issues here; Tony needed to come home for more than one reason.

Tony rose out of his chair so fast that it tipped backwards, crashing onto the deck. "Speaking of being killed… I need to go pack so I can return to D.C and make sure _that_ doesn't happen."

Behind him, Gibbs heard the screen door slam shut and he let out a soft sigh. He rubbed his hand over his face trying to clear his thoughts. "It's worse than I thought it was," he informed the silent newcomer to the porch. "Wish you had called sooner, Leah."

Leah picked up the chair that Tony had just tossed over. "It's gotten progressively worse since we got back from Italy. I don't know what to do anymore. Certain topics send him into a rage."

"Have you thought about consulting someone?"

"You saw him. Do you honestly think I'm going to get him to a therapist?"

Gibbs knew that answer. Doctor Taft had tried sending him to a therapist last year and ended up going through the backdoor to get the former marine the help he needed. They were going to have to take the same approach with Tony apparently.

Shrill rings from a cell phone broke through the sounds of a summer night. Gibbs reached into his pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah, Gibbs."

" _Boss. Autopsy report came back on Patricia Wakefield. Just like you suspected. A neurotoxin was used to paralyze her."_

"Merchant liked them completely helpless before killing them. Have a copy of that report sent to Ducky."

" _Already did, boss,"_ McGee replied. " _He's looking over it right now."_

Gibbs could sense the unspoken question in McGee's voice. "Good. DiNozzo and I will be heading back to D.C in the morning."

McGee let out a sigh of relief. If only he knew how messed up Tony was at the moment. " _That's great, boss. I'll let the others know Tony's coming back to work."_

He wasn't sure how great this really was. Gibbs eyed Leah for a moment while he ordered McGee to keep him updated, and then he hung up. "I suppose," he said to her, "that I don't have to tell you the dangers of this case."

She shook her head. "No but there's more than just _one_ danger, Gibbs. We shouldn't be fearing just the killer… but fearing what could happen to Tony if he perceives himself as failing… if he loses someone else close to him."

His body stiffened. Gibbs knew the places that Tony could be taken if he lost someone close to him… if he lost Leah or Jack. Gibbs had been there himself…several times, and he always left a piece of himself behind in those dark places. There was still time for Tony, but they had to act fast. They had to get Merchant and get Tony the help he desperately needed.

* * *

Tony slammed the door to the office shut so hard that the window panes of the Victorian era home rattled. He went to the desk and opened the bottom drawer. Resting inside was a handle of whiskey and a tumbler. Tony grabbed them and kicked the drawer shut.

He hid his drinking as best he could from Leah; he didn't want to give her another reason to divorce him. Pouring himself a glass, Tony dropped to the leather sofa and downed the glass in one gulp. He poured a second glass. This time he didn't drink it in one sip, he sat there, swirling it around in his glass, contemplating his life.

"Should have pulled the trigger weeks ago," Tony mumbled. "You're a coward, Anthony."

If Gibbs wasn't in the house, if it wasn't so late, Tony might have gone to get his gun and done the deed that night. _Coward._ Tony downed the second glass of whiskey. Drinking made it easier to push the suicidal thoughts out of his head, made it easier to cope with the fact that he was weak and couldn't hold himself together.

Another glass of whiskey was poured. Tony knew he was getting dangerously close to his limit, but he didn't care. He kept drinking until finally, after hours, he passed out on the sofa.


	3. Chapter 3

Chatter of a little voice woke Tony up the following morning. Rubbing his eyes, Tony swung his legs over the side of the sofa in the office, and stretched. The blanket he had used fell to the floor at his feet. On the small coffee table was a half empty bottle of whiskey and an empty glass. He groaned, silently; _I drank too much, again._

Tony stood up and folded his blanket, placing his pillow on top. His back was sore from sleeping on the small leather sofa for the last couple of weeks but considering how he couldn't sleep in the bed… he would lay awake staring at Leah worrying about her safety or some nights they that had gone to bed so angry at one another she had forced him into the study for the night…where he would drink himself to sleep— _like last night._ But last night, it wasn't Leah he was angry at—it was Gibbs. Staring at the closed door at of the office, the federal agent thought about just locking himself inside for the rest of the day….

Gibbs was seated at the kitchen island sipping his coffee when Tony emerged. There was no hiding the look of surprise on his face when he realized that the younger man was not sleeping in the same bed as his wife. But he didn't say anything. It was obvious after yesterday that it was best to leave some things alone. "Morning," he greeted. "Just got off the phone with McGee… we have a flight out of Boston at two."

"Then we should probably eat breakfast and get going. Traffic could be a bitch," Tony said, pouring himself some coffee.

"Leah's offered to drive us," Gibbs informed him.

"Surprised she isn't in here yelling at me," Tony grumbled. "After all, I'm now giving her the responsibility of driving back to D.C with a toddler, alone."

Sighing, quietly, Gibbs continued to sip his coffee. He was aware of the tension between Tony and Leah; she hadn't gone into detail about it on the phone, but it was present. He'd also seen it last night after Tony's outburst; the SFA had barely spoken to his wife, borderline ignoring her. "She understands, Tony."

Tony stirred the sugar in his coffee furiously. "Not lately, Gibbs. She keeps pushing me back to D.C, everything we talk about seems to end up in an argument. _This_ isn't something you just bounce back from; I was shot, I almost died. I would never push her to do something she didn't want to do."

Gibbs did not want to get in the middle of martial problems, but Leah had stood by Tony through so much—it would break his heart if their marriage fell a part because Tony was suffering from PTSD, from an event that had affected all of them, even pushed Tony apparently into a deep depression. "She's pushing you because she loves you, Tony."

He laughed, sarcastically. "I keep hearing that word floating around. She's doing this because she loves you, she stayed behind in Israel because she loved me, Ziva _lied_ to me because she loved me… let me tell you something, boss, I'm not feeling the love."

"Know that it's there, Tony," Gibbs assured him, softly. "Right now, you just might not be able to see it."

"The world has a funny and cruel way of showing me love, Gibbs," Tony asserted, finally looking at the former marine.

"Maybe… but the world also gave you a loving wife and son. You take the good with the bad."

"Good… forgive me but I see very little good in the world at the moment."

Movement caught Gibbs' eye. He glanced over to see that Leah had returned to the kitchen to start cleaning. A look of hurt flashed through her blue eyes. How often had she been told that their life wasn't _good_ this summer? "After Shannon died, I saw very little good, Tony. It gets better," he said, more for Leah than anyone else.

Tony felt his shoulders sag. He had been hoping at the start of the summer to feel more like himself by the end. Traveling to Italy, to the Cape, spending very little time in Washington had done little to help him. Running is hand over his face, he dumped the coffee he had not drank down the sink. "I've been waiting for things to get better for three months now, Gibbs. Nothing's changed."

Leah took the mug from him silently and began to scrub away at it furiously. She didn't want to start another fight, but the reason why nothing had changed was because Tony was still holding onto what happened, was still having nightmares—which he denied—and was questioning his entire existence. This was leading her to believe that Tony's issue wasn't just grief or trauma… it was everything that had happened to him in his life, coupled with the history of mental illness in his family—Leah was convinced her husband was clinically depressed. "Do you want snacks for the flight?" she asked, changing the subject before she burst into tears.

Gibbs waited to see if Tony was going to answer, when he didn't utter a word, he smiled at her. "Snacks would be good. What have you got laying around here?"

"Goldfish, fruit snacks… you know kid stuff," Leah said. "Sorry we don't have anything more sophisticated."

"Those work for me. It isn't a long flight," Gibbs replied.

"Just don't let Jack see you taking those fruit snacks," she warned him with a sad smile, "they're his favorite."

"I'll make sure to replace them and thank him."

"He really loves strawberry."

Tony unconsciously winced. He didn't know that about Jack. Shouldn't he know what kind of fruit snack his son liked? Even when he was present in Jack's life, he still wasn't _present._ Tony thought being home would mean he wouldn't miss things, but he still was missing stuff—just like his father….

Leah was speaking to him and he only caught the last bit of what she was saying. "You should have some breakfast before we drive to Boston."

His appetite had been sparse the last few months. He ate when he felt like it… which was resulting in a noticeable weight loss. Tony shrugged. "Not hungry… and you don't have to drive us. We can take the rental car and return it."

Her eyes darted towards Gibbs who remained silent. "If we drop the rental off down here, it's one last stop you have to make before going to the airport… and I'm going in that direction anyways. We're going to spend a few days with my parents. My mother wants to take Jack—well us—shopping."

For some reason this rubbed him the wrong way. Tony scowled at his wife. "Why? We're perfectly capable of providing for Jack—we don't need her to buy stuff for him constantly."

"She wants to do something nice," Leah said. "She's always spoiled the grandkids. It makes her happy."

"Fine, do whatever you want," Tony snapped, turning about on his heel. "I'm going to shower."

Gibbs and Leah watched as Tony stormed out of the kitchen. Leah blinked back several tears and went back to cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast. Gibbs stayed quiet, sipping his coffee, because, quite honestly… he didn't know what to say to her.

* * *

It felt like the world had fallen apart as she watched Tony and Gibbs drive away. Leah had been seeking advice from books, medical journals, and the internet for months now—to no avail—she still didn't know what to do.

Standing alone in the living room long after the pair of agents had left, the weight of the world came down onto Leah's shoulders. Tony did a good job of hiding his depression from the world outside the walls of their home—but once it was just them, she saw the change, she saw the man she had fallen in love with disappear, replaced with a shell of a human being.

Lincoln came into the room and rubbed against her leg, letting her know that he needed a walk. Jack was still taking his nap, so Leah took the pup to the backyard, where he could run around and play. Clutching the baby monitor in her hand, she sadly watched Lincoln as he chased a butterfly. She wished she had the joy of a dog.

"Hey," a voice said, startling her slightly, "Mom and Dad said you were in town."

"Only until tomorrow," Leah replied, glancing at her sister. "I didn't know you were down here."

"We got in last night," Lauren Andrews replied. She watched her sister for a moment. "Everything alright, Leah?"

Leah swallowed the lump in her throat, turning away from her older sister. "It's been a long summer," she answered, honestly.

Lauren quirked an eyebrow. "Long? You've spent it in Italy and on Nantucket. Sounds like a dream summer."

_Not my dream,_ Leah thought, just as Jack started to wake up. She called for Lincoln and invited her sister inside. As she went to get the baby, her sister offered to make them some coffee. Upstairs in the guest room, Jack stood in his portable crib, smiling at his mother when she entered the room.

Jack was so blissfully unware of the unhappiness in his home. If he was older, Leah was sure he'd be aware that things were not right—for now she was lucky that her son as so young. Picking the baby out of the crib, Leah headed back down the kitchen were Lauren was at the table, petting Lincoln behind the ears.

"This dog is quite the charmer," Lauren said with a smile. "No wonder he likes your husband."

"He wouldn't leave once he wandered into the backyard," Leah answered. "We asked around the neighborhood. No one was missing him and he didn't have a chip. Tony suggested we adopt him. So we did."

"Well, he's an adorable addition to your family."

"I think he's going to be the only addition to our family for a long time."

Lauren stopped giving Lincoln attention and gave her sister a concerned look. "Come on, Leah, what's going?"

Leah shook her head and put Jack in his highchair. "Nothing. Coffee sounds like it's ready. How about you pour that, and I'll make sure the little man here gets his lunch?" She didn't wait for answer and went to get Jack his favorite jar of baby food, all the while trying to hide the desperation she was feeling from her sister.


	4. Chapter 4

Timothy McGee dusted off the top of the desk in front of him. It had been occupied by Clayton Reeves for the summer, but the MI-6 operative had been called back to England for assignment and now, the desk was eagerly awaiting its rightful owner, who at any moment was due to arrive from the airport.

It wasn't like the team had not operated without Tony, they had, quite well, but Gibbs had been in even more of funk since the senior field agent had taken the leave of absence. The team leader's odd behavior since Tony had been shot and then Tony extended his leave of absence beyond the recommended time had been quite a shock to Tim. He had hoped that Gibbs would have shown more emotion after everything the team had been through that year but it was like Gibbs didn't care what had happened to his agent, and Tony had once been one of his closest friends…

Ellie plopped a coffee down onto the desk and smiled brightly. "I got Tony's favorite. Figured it would be something nice and welcoming."

Tim returned the smile. He had missed his best friend the last few months. Tim and Delilah had only seen Tony, briefly, when they joined the DiNozzos on the Cape for a weekend. Tony had distanced himself from his visitors, leaving Leah to entertain them. "I think Tony's ready to come home. He was quiet when Delilah and I went to visit him."

"I'm sure Leah is ready to send him back to work," Ellie teased as she sat down at her desk. "Someone as active as Tony doesn't like to sit still for very long."

"Probably driving her crazy," Tim muttered. "Tony was never made for staying in one place for too long. He needs the action."

Ellie glanced at Tony's desk. She had only seen him once since he had left—at Tim and Delilah's wedding in July. The DiNozzos had just returned from Italy. Tony seemed content, smiling, life had settled for the family."What do we know about this case?" she asked, changing the subject.

Tim brought the file up onto the plasma. "Tommy Merchant was seventeen when he was arrested for murdering three women. He tortured them, sadistically, before killing them. Paralyzed them so they couldn't fight back. The neurotoxin found in Patricia Wakefield's body connects Merchant to the case., it was the same one used in the previous three murders."

"His life in prison was hard," Ellie remarked. "Numerous trips to the infirmary for injuries inflicted by other inmates."

"He was in with a lot of lifers," Tim said. "Not surprising he became their target, seeing how young he was."

"Going after all these people he feels are responsible for his torture… it's a long list."

"Well, he already got one—the lawyer."

Ellie flipped open her file folder. "The judge that oversaw his trial passed away last year—the D.A retired and moved to the Florida Keys. That leaves Gibbs, Tony, Ducky, and Abby."

Tim nodded. "Abby and Ducky have protection details. Metro was considering the locations of the jury."

She sighed. "Do you think he'd go after the jury?"

"Yes," Tony's hard voice snapped, announcing his arrival. "He's a cold-blooded killer."

Ellie beamed when she saw him, her brown eyes sparkling with welcome, but as she got up to give him a hug… she could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. "Welcome back! I got… I got your favorite coffee. It's on your desk."

Tony softly thanked her and picked the coffee up, looking down at his desk with a frown. "Not my desk—it's Reeves'. Where is the suave Brit anyways?"

Tim was rattled by Tony's cold, stiff demeanor. _This_ wasn't like Tony. "He had to go back to England for a while. MI-6 had an assignment for him. They said they could loan him back to us when the assignment was complete."

He grunted an answer and sat down at his desk. Tony flipped his computer on and stared at the screen, lost in the memories of the last time he sat here. Life had just been about to be turned upside down, completely… he wasn't sure if he had turned it back right side up yet. _Leah would say no…_

"Did you have a good flight?" Ellie asked, making small talk.

"It was fine. Quick and painless," Tony said with a shrug.

"Gibbs talk at all?" Tim questioned.

"No. What do we have to talk about?" Tony threw out, hotly.

Tim blinked. "You… you always find something to talk about."

Tony grabbed his coffee and stood up. "Yeah, and things change," he snarled. "Going to go say _hi_ to Abs."

Ellie moved out of his way, startled by the outburst of anger in him. Looking at Tim, she realized he was surprised as well. In three months, their partner had completely changed—for the worse.

* * *

Lauren had taken the dog and the baby for a walk, giving Leah sometime to clean the house without having Lincoln at her feet or Jack chasing after him. Her parents would probably scold her for scrubbing the kitchen and bathrooms, but Leah didn't care. She had never felt the need to hire a housekeeper, even now that she owned her own house.

She made her way upstairs to the master bedroom and found the suitcases. Leah put them on the king-sized bed and opened them. She started to empty the drawers of all their clothing, not putting a lot of thought into it, until a folded-up piece of white lined paper caught her attention. Confused, Leah picked it up and unfolded it, realizing that the note was addressed to her.

It was in Tony's handwriting. She would recognize his handwriting anywhere and she wondered if he had written her a letter—they had corresponded through letters the summer she had been in Cairo. _Dear Leah,_ the letter began, _I'm sorry._

* * *

Another body of someone else connected to the first case had appeared. This time Metro wasted no time calling NCIS in.

Tony felt vastly out of place riding in the car besides Gibbs as they drove to the crime scene. He felt constricted by the collar of his dress shirt, the fitted blazer against his body and the itchy dress pants and as they pulled up to a secluded area outside the city, he felt even more constricted. He just wasn't ready and yet he was left with very little choice.

Gibbs parked the car behind the NCIS truck and got out silently, popping the trunk to grab his gear. He noticed that Tony wasn't moving with any sense of urgency, and if he was honest, he was not surprised.

Tony clenched his sweaty palms. It wasn't like he had never done this before… he had made a living on investigating crime scenes and dead bodies. Slamming his eyes shut, he counted to ten, and then worked up the courage to get out of the car.

His gear was waiting by the wheel for him. Tony swallowed and slipped on the familiar windbreaker and hat, grabbed the backpack and proceeded towards the taped off area.

"Sir? I need to see your credentials," the officer standing guard said.

"What?" Tony asked, confused.

"Your identification. Only authorized personnel are allowed passed this tape."

"Sorry. I'm a little out of practice."

Tony found his ID and showed it to the officer, who barely looked at it he noticed, but let him underneath the tape anyways. Shoving the ID into his back pocket he noticed that the team was already working. _They don't need me,_ he thought. _What the hell am I doing here, sticking my neck out like this?_

Tim looked over at him then, pale green eyes filled with concern. Tony felt as though he been stripped down to his very soul, as if Tim could see every little imperfection…

"Anthony!" Ducky greeted him, warmly. "It was starting to feel like this leave of absence was permanent."

"It would be if I had my way," Tony said, coldly. "Fortunately for you, and NCIS, my wife got her way."

Ducky glanced anxiously at Gibbs. The amount of venom in Tony's words was shocking. He had never heard the younger man use such a tone of voice when talking about Leah. "Surely Leah would never push you do something that you didn't want too. Doesn't seem in her nature."

Tony dropped his bag at his feet, his eyes focusing on the dead body of a former MP that had discovered the first victim back in the day. "Trust me, she has it in her."

Gibbs snapped his fingers. "Hey," he directed towards Ducky, "can you give me a time of death yet?"

The medical examiner found his liver probe and slid it into the body. He waited for the reading and then made his calculation. "I'd estimate that he died between eight and ten hours ago. Did anyone report him missing?"

"No," Tim reported. "His wife is out of town and his neighbor says he's goes camping all the time when she is."

"So, his absence was normal," Tony said, frustrated. "Doesn't get us any closer to finding Merchant."

"We've got almost everyone involved in that original case covered," Gibbs assured Tony. "We just have to be patient."

"Patient?" Tony yelled. "How many lives are going to be lost because we're being _patient?_ "

Gibbs realized he had to diffuse the situation but he wasn't sure how. In the past he knew exactly how to calm Tony… but this new Tony, the one filled with so much anger at the world around him—Gibbs didn't have a clue. "DiNozzo, I know you want him caught quickly so you can… go back on leave… but I can't make promises…"

Tony frowned and grabbed his backpack. "I'm going to sketch," he mumbled, moving away from the group and physically putting the distance between himself and the team that he was emotionally feeling.

Ducky sighed when the senior field agent was out of earshot. "Leah was right. Anthony is clearly suffering clinical depression. I suppose after everything he has been through it was bound to happen. He needs professional help, Jethro."

"One problem at a time, Duck," Gibbs responded. "Leah's been trying to find someone; getting Tony there is another problem altogether."

"Mental illness can tear families to pieces," Ducky said, calmly. "Even if Tony gets through this on his own… it might be too late; Leah might take Jack and leave him."

"Legally she could even file an order of protection against Tony if she felt he was danger to her or Jack," Tim interjected.

Gibbs watched as Tony worked. From this distance it felt like nothing had changed but everything had. He knew the emotions that the senior field agent was going through all too well, and years later he often times wondered if his daughter had survived the car accident if he would have handled the loss of Shannon better. Watching Tony, who had a loving wife and a son, crumble… he concluded it might not have mattered. "Ducky, do you still have that number for Rachel Cranston?"

Ducky nodded. "Yes. She moved to California to take a job at UCLA. When we get back to NCIS I'll give her a call… perhaps she can come out here to observe Anthony."

He felt little relief but it was a push in the right direction. Gibbs waved the team off, telling them to get back to work, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw Leah's number flash across his screen. _Damn it, Tony, I told you to call her when we landed._ "We made it to D.C fine," he answered, expecting that to be why she was calling.

" _I…I know that,"_ Leah stammered. " _Tony called me while he was at baggage claim."_

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked, hearing the fear in her voice.

" _My parents came down to help me clean the house,"_ Leah said, on the verge of tears, _"I found… Gibbs I found a note addressed to me…"_

"A note? I'm confused, Leah. Why are you calling me?"

" _It was a suicide note, Gibbs—from Tony—he's… he's been thinking about killing himself."_

Gibbs flashed back to sitting on that beach, holding his gun in front of him and wondering if he should eat it. His eyes traveled towards Tony, still sketching, and he felt sick to his stomach. Rachel couldn't get here fast enough and he was going to have to seriously consider pulling Tony from this case… "Listen, I know a doctor. I'm getting in touch with her… just, breathe, Leah…"

Leah was trying to take steady breaths, but it was clear she was panicked. " _He's worse off than I thought. I just… I just don't know what to do anymore!"_

He could relate to her pain. She was trying her best to keep her family together and the one she loved the most was unraveling before her very eyes. "I've got his six, Leah," Gibbs assured her before hanging up, "Promise."


	5. Chapter 5

Lauren had found her sister curled up on a wicker loveseat out on the master bedroom balcony. "I put Jack down for a nap," she said, joining her sister. "Are you alright?"

"No," Leah cried, softly. "I'm not. My whole life is falling apart."

"Come on, Leah, it can't be that bad," Lauren replied.

Leah sat up and shoved the note she had found into her sister's hand, waiting while she read it. When Lauren was done, she snapped, "Do you still think that it is not as bad as it seems?"

Lauren took a deep breath and held onto the note in her hand—a suicide note. "Leah, he didn't go through with it. He obviously needs help, there's nothing to be ashamed about."

She was suddenly furious. Leah glared at her older sister. "I'm not ashamed, Lauren! I'm scared, I'm upset, but I am not ashamed of my husband! Yes, he has mental health issues alright—anxiety, depression—but who wouldn't after everything he's been through this year?"

For a moment, Lauren didn't say a word. It had been clear to their parents that Leah was on the verge of a mental breakdown, they had told Lauren about her sister's state of mind when she saw them the previous weekend and it was one of the reasons Lauren had ventured over to visit her sister when she arrived on the Cape. Finding the suicide note that Tony had drafted was, perhaps, the reality check that John and Katherine Dawson were worried about blindsiding their daughter. "Leah, he didn't do it."

"This time," Leah argued, tears gathering in her eyes. "It doesn't mean he won't go through with it the next time."

"Everyone is going to make sure he gets the help he needs," Lauren promised.

Leah looked away, shaking her head. "I want my Tony—the one that would do anything for me, for our son—the one that was filled with so much love, not this rage, and fear. What if that's too much to ask for? What if my Tony never comes back?"

Lauren took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "It was your Tony that didn't follow through with that note, Leah. He was the one that said no. Your Tony is still in there, fighting, he just needs someone to fight with him, someone who knows how to fight with him. You're doing your best but you're not a therapist—you're his wife."

She got up off the loveseat, quickly. Immediately her sister could recognize that she had gone into her hyper focused state that usually only occurred when she was rushing to meet deadlines at George Washington. Leah threw open some drawers and tossed a pile of her clothes onto the bed. "I need to pack. I need to get into that car this afternoon and drive home and stop him… stop him from destroying our lives…. destroying his!"

It was hard reasoning with her sister when she was in this kind of state; the only one that Lauren had seen be able to deal with Leah like this was, ironically, Tony. "Maybe you should come home, to Boston, for a few days. Mom and Dad are worried about you."

"They don't need to worry about me. I'm fine!"

"Are you, Leah? You've had to hold everything together, provide a stable environment for a small child, while traveling…"

Leah shoved her clothes, unfolded into the bag, which wasn't like her. Usually everything was neatly packed. "Jack loved every minute of our trip. You've seen him today—he's a happy baby. However, he won't be a happy baby if his father commits suicide. So, we have to get home, to Washington. Tonight."

Lauren could see that her sister had just as much rage as her brother-in-law. "Then take him home to Washington—tomorrow—when you're level headed and capable of driving."

"I… I would never put my son in danger!"

"I know, that's why you need to wait until tomorrow."

"Tony… needs me," Leah whimpered. _Or he used too, I can't tell anymore. No… you need him, and the one you fell in love with… not… not this shell he's become…_ Tears ran waterfalls down her cheeks as she glanced at her sister. "I need him, Lauren, I need him to get better."

Lauren gathered her sister into her arms and hugged her tightly, like she had when Leah's first boyfriend dumped her or when the young woman had first gotten a rough grade in college after flying through high school. There had been no words to really comfort her little sister back then—there certainly were no words of comfort now.

* * *

His dress shirt was sticky thanks to the humidity. Tony forgot how humid it could get in Washington over the summer. It had plastered the shirt to his body and he couldn't wait to be rid of the clothes once he made it home that night—if he did make it home that night.

Gibbs had been working them hard all day, sending Tony everywhere and anywhere with Tim to gather interviews, check in on others involved with the case to make sure they were alive, and follow up on leads. If he didn't know any better he'd say that Gibbs was purposefully keeping him out of the office.

Tony dug his wallet out and stepped up to the coffee cart.

Immediately the young girl's eyes brightened. "Agent DiNozzo!" she greeted with a smile, reminding Tony that they'd had a friendly relationship. "I didn't know you were back! How is the family? I bet Jack is getting big, huh?"

"Enjoying the Cape right now I hope," Tony said, before placing his order for his usual. "Jack started walking."

"I knew he was going to take off over the summer," the girl said as she made his drink.

"Yeah…" Tony said with a wince. He missed his son, but Leah had yet to call and tell him when she was heading home. "Jack is more than happy to roam around."

She chuckled as she handed him his coffee. "Jack is just happy, period."

He winced again, paid for his coffee and stepped out of line. Tony wandered for a bit until he found a bench and sat down. Where had that Agent DiNozzo gone? The one that would talk to anyone, form relationships with anyone around him? He didn't even talk to the flight attendants on their flight… he had built up the tallest wall that he could and kept everyone out. Forget the wall, he had built a fortress.

Across the Navy Yard, Tony spotted Tim making his way towards the SFA. Gibbs must have had another errand for them to run. It was getting close to dinner…

"Boss wants us to go check on Graham Milton," Tim informed him when he arrived.

"Milton was the witness that placed Merchant on the base the night Louisa Ramon was killed," Tony said.

"He lives in cow country now. Ready for a drive?"

"Clever."

Tim looked at him, puzzled. "Huh?"

Tony stood, clutching his coffee. "Gibbs. Doing everything he can to keep me moving. Active. Like it's going to change my mind and make me realize that I belong here."

His partner looked a little deflated. "Tony, you do belong here. Is this about China?"

"China was just the tip of the iceberg," Tony said with a shake of his head, and not elaborating further, countered, "Come on, I'll let you drive."

* * *

"You should call Gareth," Lauren said as they sat at the kitchen table. "He might know someone trained to deal with PTSD."

"Do you think that's what Tony is suffering from?" Leah asked, meekly.

Lauren nodded her head. "Yes," she answered, honestly. "Leah, he was tormented by a serial killer, toyed with, stabbed in the knee, and then fled for his life—only to be shot in the chest. That has to be on his mind right now as he goes back to work, and if he isn't in a good place—being on a case could be dangerous for him and his team."

Leah slumped in her chair. She had been so relieved that Tony had survived being shot that she didn't see the signs of his PTSD until their return from Italy. "I think…I think he's drinking, Lauren. I found whiskey in the office."

"Has he been violent with you?"

"No. Just… a lot of shouting and fighting."

"You should probably call Gibbs and tell him about the drinking."

"Tony is pissed at me for calling Gibbs in the first place."

Lauren took a deep breath. "It's for his own good; he might not be able to see it now, but later, when he's better, he'll appreciate it. Please tell me you at least called him about the suicide note?"

Leah nodded. "Yes, right after I found it. He told me that he was going to get in touch with a doctor that he knew. He couldn't tell me much else; not that Gibbs talks a lot when you do speak to him. Tony always did call him a functional mute."


	6. Chapter 6

Graham Milton was surprised to learn Tommy Merchant was out of prison. "They let that wacko out? Wow… never thought I would see the day when he walked the streets again… not after reading about that poor girl."

Tony tapped his pad against his leg. "Girls. There were three victims… that we were aware of. There's a possibility that Merchant murdered more…they were just never found."

"Shame," Milton said with a shake of his head. "Kid probably did need help instead of jail time."

"He still killed three women," Tony argued. _And there's no known cure for a sociopath._ "Possibly two more since getting out."

Milton fixed his afternoon tea. In his late sixties now, he had been on the base that morning to do some gardening when he noticed Merchant. "Well, he hasn't come around here Agent DiNozzo. Obviously, because I'm still alive."

Tony continued to tap the pad against his leg. The musty smell of old newspapers and fabric softener giving him a slight headache. He wanted to go home. I want Leah. He blinked at that thought and slumped against the wall behind him, that was covered in yellowed floral wallpaper from the 1970s. He hadn't wanted Leah in a couple of months; he had wanted to push her away. "We're going to have to take you into protective custody."

"You really think Merchant's going to come all the way out here for little old me?" Milton asked.

"He's on a quest to make all of us pay," Tony said with a shrug.

"Driving me back to D.C isn't going to keep you from your wife is it?"

"Pardon?"

Milton gestured towards Tony's wedding band. "I was married thirty years, Agent DiNozzo. Always made sure to get home to my wife after a long, hard day's work."

Tony felt his heart ache. His job prevented him from going home to Leah every night. There was a chance it could take him away from her permanently. "She'll understand. Comes with the job, unfortunately."

The older man chuckled while he drank his tea. "Your wife must be a saint."

He sighed. Tony couldn't stop the bubble of emotions that swelled up inside of him. For the first time in months he felt something other than anger or sadness…he felt fear. What was he doing to himself? To Leah? To their son? What would Leah think if she knew he had sat on their bed, holding a note in one hand and his gun in the other. He shuddered thinking about her finding his body… "She's pretty special. Could stand to be treated better by me."

Tim came through the creaky back door at that point, slipping his phone in his pocket. "Just got off the phone with Fornell. FBI is going to take over Graham's protection detail."

"So our job now is taxi service to the FBI," Tony said with a heavy sigh. "Probably should pack, Graham."

"Give me a few," Milton said, disappearing from the kitchen.

Tony pushed off the wall, turning to look at the floral pattern. He traced it with his finger, heaving another big sigh. "I was so eager when I first met him," he mumbled. "I wanted so badly to impress Gibbs."

Tim followed Tony's movements with his eyes. He wondered if Ducky had gotten in touch with Rachel yet. "There's no need to impress him anymore, Tony. You've more than impressed him. You don't need him anymore to be a great agent."

He sighed once again, letting all his anger just deflate. "Is that why he was so cold to me all year? It didn't help when I went home from the hospital that Gibbs kept me at arms' length. I really could have used his advice."

"I know Gibbs doesn't like to talk, but maybe you need to talk to him… you know really talk to him."

"Could be too late for that, Probie. I haven't given Gibbs any reason to care about what happens to me in the last two days."

Tim glared at the back of Tony's head. "Come on, Tony. Gibbs went up to the Cape to retrieve you; he's been talking to your in-laws because he's worried about you and Leah."

Tony was surprised. He turned slightly and glanced at his partner. He had distanced himself from his family over the summer so he had not spoken much to his in-laws. "Gibbs talked to Katherine and John?"

He nodded, gently. "Yeah, after you got back from Italy. Your dad came down to NCIS… he was… he told us you were not acting like yourself. Your in-laws basically confirmed what your father was saying. I think more people care about you than you believe, Tony."

Shaken, Tony informed Tim that he needed to step outside for air. Once outside he took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He found his cell phone and stared at the screen. Running his thumb over it, the screen lit up and Leah was smiling back at him. _You need to stop this_ , a voice said in the back of his head, _you need to stop this for her_. Blinking back tears, he unlocked the phone and found her name on his contact list. He opened a new text message.

If he was going to get off this path of self-destruction, he needed to start now. Tony was terrified, like when he had the Plague. He was never afraid— _when the danger is something you can confront._

Kate. He suddenly realized that the voice he had been hearing, trying to reason with him, was Kate. Swallowing his emotions, he swiftly typed a message to Leah. It was short, because his vision was blurred with tears, and it simply read, _I love you_.

* * *

Leah had fallen asleep, face down on the large bed. She was only woken up by her cell phone vibrating near her leg, causing the bed to move.

Rolling over onto her back, she managed to find her phone. Believing that it was her sister letting her know that she was returning from the beach with Jack, Leah hit the home button. She was surprised to see Tony's name on the screen. It was the first time he had reached out to her in weeks, besides the courtesy call that he had landed in Washington.

Her heart skipped a beat seeing his name. Leah felt tears spring to her eyes even before she read his message— _I love you_. Months had gone by since Tony had texted her something like this. He used to do it all the time before his leave, before their lives had turned upside down and he'd been dragged down into a dark, emotional abyss.

She wiped her eyes clean of the tears and responded back— _I love you too_. Leah cried, silently, hugging her phone to her chest, thanking God that finally, finally, she had been shown a sign of _her_ Tony returning to her.

* * *

Gibbs had managed to convince Tony to come back to his house for the night. With the discovery of the suicide note, and his growing worries that Tony was drinking, the team leader was concerned for the safety of his senior field agent—more so than usual. He didn't want to leave Tony alone to his vices—he knew the dark places that being alone could take a person.

Tony didn't argue going with Gibbs. Since returning from picking up Milton, Tony had been subdued. Another extreme mood swing that Leah had informed the former marine that her husband was going through. If he wasn't raging mad, he was quiet, mute. He didn't even react when he saw Rachel Cranston sitting on the sofa.

Rachel studied him for a moment. She had been in town already when Ducky called her. Hearing what the medical examiner had to say, she was deeply worried about Tony. "Hi," she greeted brightly. "Figured I'd stop by for dinner."

"Ordered a pizza," Gibbs said, leaving the two alone in the living room. "Beers in the fridge."

"Should I be having alcohol?" Tony asked, honestly, in a haze. "It will only add to my depression."

"Are you depressed, Tony?" the doctor questioned, nervously.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" the senior field agent asked, gesturing towards her.

"I'm here if you need to talk," Rachel proclaimed, smiling warmly.

Tony sighed and slumped even further into the old sofa cushions. "My mother suffered depression. I was a cop for years. I know the signs… I don't eat, I don't sleep…I drink to numb my emotions… you know just as much as I do that I'm depressed. No offense, Doctor, I don't need your expertise to tell me what's wrong with me."

Rachel's eyes darted towards the basement door where Gibbs had disappeared through. "Do you think something is wrong with you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. Tony refused to look at her. "Yes. I don't feel normal."

She nodded in understanding. "Why don't you feel normal, Tony?"

Tony rubbed his hands over his face, laughing softly, sarcastically. "On the Cape, I would lay awake at night, next to Leah, and think about how to end my life. My gun, jumping off a bridge into the ocean… pills. I thought I was going to be freeing Leah of all her worries. _That_ is not normal, Doc."

Rachel felt a pang in her heart hearing him talk like this. Her brown eyes softened as she asked him, "Why didn't you kill yourself?"

"Jack… I was sitting on the bed with the note and the gun," Tony said, heavily. "And he came into the room… proud as punch to be walking. That's when I realized how selfish I was being and the anger… the anger just took over. Every little thing made me want to scream."

"Your son has a powerful presence in your life… and your wife?" Rachel questioned. "How does Leah fit into how you're feeling right now?"

Tony pursed his lips, glanced at her, regretfully. "Failed her, Doc. I did the one thing I promised her I would never do—I hurt her, I became my father."

Rachel was not aware that anything had gotten physical with Leah; Gibbs didn't seem to think it had gone that far. "Have you… been violent towards your wife?"

Anger flashed in his eyes for a moment before Tony answered, "What? No! I would never physically harm her! But I've deeply hurt her, emotionally. I told you, I became my father...a drunk…absent…verbally abusive. My actions hurt Leah, not my fists."

"Leah could have left. You weren't holding her hostage, were you?"

"No. She's too kindhearted to do that. She really deserves better than me."

"Is that how she feels?"

"I don't know. She should."

Rachel leaned back in her seat. She was going to have to talk to Leah. Somehow she didn't think Tony's wife would feel like she deserved better… "Have you talked to her since coming back to Washington?"

Tony swallowed the bile in his throat. "I called her when we landed; a text message earlier today."

She nodded. "What did you say in that text message?"

He blinked some tears back. "I told her I loved her."

"Did she say anything back to you?"

"She… she said… she loved me too."

Rachel smiled at him sadly. "Then you have your answer, Tony. She doesn't feel she deserves better. If anything, she probably wants to help you."

Tony couldn't stop his tears this time. He wiped at his eyes and stood up. "Yeah, well, it's a nice thought, Doc, but I don't think she can help me. No one can."


	7. Chapter 7

"How bad is he?" Gibbs asked after Tony stormed upstairs.

"Well," Rachel answered, honestly, "not good. I talked to his wife, lovely woman, but she's in a bit of denial. Did you know he's been drinking?"

Gibbs sighed, nodded, and sipped his beer. "Yeah. Leah told me about it. Tony has never been a heavy drinker—his dad had something to do with that—I'm worried about him, Rachel. He's spiraling."

Rachel would agree. She had warned Tony a long time ago not to bottle everything up. It was going to come back to haunt him. "Why wasn't he given help after he was shot?"

"He refused to go see the shrink."

"Hmmm…kinda like someone else I know."

Gibbs wasn't going to argue with her. He was very much aware he wasn't a good example for Tony. Perhaps, he was partially to blame for Tony's downward plunge. "Tony held the team together after my injuries, he even caught the man responsible for it. I guess… I never saw him as needing any outside help."

Rachel pursed her lips. "Tony is angry at you. He feels abandoned by those he loves, but he especially feels abandoned by you. Why didn't you go see him in the hospital?"

"Had to make sure the guy who did it went to jail."

"Even after he had been arrested?"

"Tony had Leah; he didn't need me."

"Leah can't be everything to him. He couldn't talk to her about his injuries."

"What are you suggesting then?" Gibbs challenged her.

"That you talk to him," Rachel said, gathering her things, "See you later, Gibbs."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Tony woke up from another nightmare, but he was in Kelly's old bedroom and he was pretty sure there wasn't any alcohol stashed in here. He would have to go the basement.

Tony knew that Gibbs was aware that he was drinking; Leah wouldn't leave that detail out. He also knew that Gibbs probably was still down in the basement, working on his boat or whatever wood working project had tickled his fancy these days. _You don't need the alcohol, come on, you're not your father!_

But, he had turned into his father, he had turned to booze to hide his feelings. Tony felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on to his chest. The one thing he had promised Leah, promised himself, that he wasn't going to become the raging alcoholic that Senior had been when he'd been growing up.

Tony glanced at the clock on the night stand. It was late. Leah wouldn't be up. But he needed to hear her voice. He reached for his phone and dialed her number. It rang for a bit and then went straight to voicemail. "Hi, I know, I know it's late… I just… I needed to hear your voice… Leah… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have called…"

He hung up quickly and threw the phone on the bed. Covering his eyes, he tried to drown out the voices in his head. When the phone rang, it startled him. Tony jumped up and grabbed it. Maybe it was work, maybe he'd be getting out of this room… "Hello?"

" _Hi sweetie,_ " Leah's voice responded, sounding concerned. " _Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah," Tony whispered. _Don't lie to her!_ "No… no…actually it's not."

" _Tony, please talk to me, please let me help you."_

"I'm my father, Leah."

She sighed, heavily. " _No. You're not. Tony, you're hurting right now, you're angry… that doesn't make you your father."_

He wanted to scream, but he didn't want Gibbs to know that he was in the middle of a breakdown. Gibbs would have Rachel up here picking his brain again. "I turned to booze, when I couldn't handle my emotions anymore, I drank. I don't know how to stop this, I don't know how to turn everything around, Leah. Somedays, I'm not sure I even want to turn it around."

Leah took a deep breath, trying to stop herself from sobbing. " _Then let's get you help. My brother knows a therapist in D.C, one who specializes in PTSD."_

"PTSD? Is that what I have?"

" _Possibly. Think about it, Tony you went through a massive tramuatic event—months after your watched Gibbs get shot."_

"Leah… I don't know…"

" _Please, Tony, please…will you at least go talk to him… for me?"_

Tony sighed and took a deep breath. "Yeah…I'll go talk to him… for you." _Maybe in the process it will help me as well._

* * *

Early the next morning, Tony found Gibbs at the dining room table, a newspaper in his hand, a cup of coffee at his side. Strangely the familiar sight brought a lot of comfort to the senior field agent. It gave him hope that, maybe, perhaps he could return to something normal. "Hey, boss," he said, joining Gibbs.

Gibbs looked up from his paper. "'Morning. Sleep okay?" he asked the younger man, even though he was aware of the dark circles underneath Tony's eyes.

"About the same since January," Tony answered honestly.

"It wasn't your fault, Tony," Gibbs assured him.

He winced and stared at his mug. Tony was starting to see that, slowly. Being back on the job was opening his eyes to the ebb and flow of life again, that sometimes things were completely out of his hands. "I know, boss," he said, softly. "At least, I'm starting to think _I know._ "

Taking a sip of his coffee, Gibbs nodded his head. "Good. You're a hell of an agent, Tony. I would hate for this to keep you down—even the best agents get taken off guard. It happened to me, to Franks… you can't prepare for everything."

Tony subconsciously played with the wedding band on his finger. "I know she called you. Ziva. Abby told me. So, when Ziva called, and asked about Leah… what… what did you tell her?" he questioned, changing the subject.

Gibbs sighed and folded his paper up. "I told her the truth, Tony. It took you a long time to even think about going on a date, that you had been blaming yourself for the decisions she made… I told her that Leah fixed a broken man and her heart was pure."

"Did she ask if I was happy?"

"She did and she was glad that you were. She didn't want you wasting your life away over her."

"Sometimes… I think about if she had picked up the phone that night I called her…"

"You told her you met someone. She knew that you never would have told her if you didn't think it was serious."

Tony stared at his coffee. Meeting Leah had been a life altering, lifesaving event for him. He had been backed into such a dark place by Ziva's rejection. Leah had pulled him from the darkness, showing him that love was still possible for him. "As much as I loved her, it wouldn't have worked out. Ziva… and I...we're too much alike...we would have fought all the time..."

Gibbs stood up and went to pour himself some more coffee. "So why do you keep beating yourself up about it, Tony?" he asked honestly when he sat back down.

He laughed, angrily. "Good question. You know, for all intents and purposes, I shouldn't be beating myself up. It's clear that Ziva didn't love me, at least not in the same way I loved her, no matter how many times Abby wants to insist that she did. Maybe I'm beating myself up because I took a lot of risks out there in Israel. I risked my career lying to you, and even though I knew it was wrong to take advantage of someone so obviously in pain, I didn't care. I slept with her as a last-ditch effort to keep her with me."

"DiNozzo, you were emotionally compromised. Desperate. If Jenny had given me the chance, instead of the _Dear John_ letter, I might have done the same as you," Gibbs confessed, watching Tony's green eyes soften.

"I walked around the Middle East in a haze that summer. Why didn't you pull me?" Tony asked, searching Gibbs eyes. "I mean… I had to be showing the signs of going crazy."

Gibbs sighed and shrugged. "Nothing was going to pull you from Israel. You had to come to the end of the road on your own, not with me yanking you out of there."

Tony pushed his coffee mug away from him and ran his hands over his face. "Always a bad idea to put two emotionally compromised people, who are sexually attracted to each other, on a farm—alone."

"You're only human."

"Don't feel human right now."

"Give it time," Gibbs assured him. _You'll get back to feeling human again, Tony, promise._

"Are you mad at me?" Tony asked, catching him off guard. "I mean, about Ziva?"

"Why would I be mad?" Gibbs inquired. "Ziva made her choices."

Tony licked his lips. "Just feels like some days… you are. When I was in the hospital I kept hearing about how worried you were, but you barely showed up to visit me."

Gibbs regretted that Tony's injuries had happened during some of his darkest days of his own recovery. "No, Tony, I wasn't mad at you about Ziva. She couldn't be an agent anymore and she felt that she didn't belong here in D.C. Like I said, she made her choices. We have to live with them."

His eyes grew moist, filled with tremendous sadness. "Are you angry at me about Budd?"

Every emotion he'd felt about his life and death experience, hit Gibbs full bore. He buried the intense emotions and said, "Yes. At first I was but I was angry about everything last year, Tony."

"So… why take it out on me? _That_ hurt."

"You… were the easy target. I'm sorry, Tony."

"I needed you, I needed you, and you weren't there," Tony whispered, trying to hide the vulnerability in his voice. "Leah was… she was great… but I needed the man that was the closest thing I had to a father… and you weren't there."

"I'm here now, Tony," Gibbs said, gripping the younger man's shoulder tightly. "I know it doesn't make up for last year, and I don't expect you to forgive me… but I want you to know that I'm here, now. I'm going to help you through this, with Leah and Rachel—Tim, Ducky… do you understand? You're not in this alone."

Tony swallowed the bile in his throat. "I think… I think I'm starting to understand."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder reassuringly. "Good. That's a good start, Tony."

He took a shuddering breath. It might be a good start, but was it enough? At this point, Tony wasn't sure. He felt that same ache for Leah that he'd felt yesterday at Graham Milton's house. "I miss Leah, boss. Last night, I just wanted to hold her to make me feel better." _I even called her well past midnight just to hear her voice..._

His hand didn't leave Tony's shoulder. Gibbs could understand the ache for the woman he loved—unfortunately in his case, the woman that he ached for was no longer alive. For Tony, however, Leah was very much alive. "She's coming home today, remember?"

"It will still be at least another day before I _see_ her," Tony lamented. "I can't… I can't stop this if she isn't here."

"No, but you can start, Tony," Gibbs told him. "Stay here again tonight."

"So I can chat with Rachel?"

"Did it help?"

"A little… I think… I'm not sure."

"Then, yes, so you can chat with Rachel."

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Gibbs cell phone rang. He downed the rest of his coffee while the team leader chatted on the phone. Listening in on the conversation, Tony got the impression he was going to need it—it was going to be a long day.

Gibbs returned, silently putting his phone back into his pocket. He gazed at Tony, noticing the dark circles underneath the younger man's eyes. He was pushing Tony to take on too much. "You know, I've got some things that need to be done around the house…"

His green eyes filled with understanding. Tony glanced around. "Noticed the living room needs a fresh coat of paint… maybe some color, to you know, brighten the place up a bit. Always felt like a cave in here, boss."

He was happy to see some sense of humor. Perhaps it meant that Tony was crawling his way back. Gibbs reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He threw some money on the table. "Here, knock yourself out."

"Are you giving me the day off to _paint?_ "

"I'm giving you the day off to give you some time. I need to stop pushing you, Tony."

"How many times should I expect a phone call today?"

"Nothing too wild on the color, DiNozzo. Watch your six."

Tony smiled, sadly. "Don't worry boss. I'll make sure I have my weapon on me at all times.

Gibbs hesitated for a moment. "If you need to talk…"

"I promise I'll call," Tony assured him.

Giving a little nod of his head, Gibbs grabbed his gear and headed out to NCIS. He was concerned for Tony but he knew that smothering his SFA was not going to help. It would just alienate Tony from him even more. He needed to work on building up Tony's trust in him once again, prove to him that he was going to be there, because he had not been there when Tony had been injured.

Tony sighed once Gibbs was gone. He slowly was starting to feel like he was worth something again, seeing that the team leader was worried he might think about ending his life. Deep down inside the senior field agent had already decided that committing suicide was not going to solve anything. In fact, Tony had come to realize that it would only make matters worse.


	8. Chapter 8

"How bad is he?" Gibbs asked after Tony stormed upstairs.

"Well," Rachel answered, honestly, "not good. I talked to his wife, lovely woman, but she's in a bit of denial. Did you know he's been drinking?"

Gibbs sighed, nodded, and sipped his beer. "Yeah. Leah told me about it. Tony has never been a heavy drinker—his dad had something to do with that—I'm worried about him, Rachel. He's spiraling."

Rachel would agree. She had warned Tony a long time ago not to bottle everything up. It was going to come back to haunt him. "Why wasn't he given help after he was shot?"

"He refused to go see the shrink."

"Hmmm…kinda like someone else I know."

Gibbs wasn't going to argue with her. He was very much aware he wasn't a good example for Tony. Perhaps, he was partially to blame for Tony's downward plunge. "Tony held the team together after my injuries, he even caught the man responsible for it. I guess… I never saw him as needing any outside help."

Rachel pursed her lips. "Tony is angry at you. He feels abandoned by those he loves, but he especially feels abandoned by you. Why didn't you go see him in the hospital?"

"Had to make sure the guy who did it went to jail."

"Even after he had been arrested?"

"Tony had Leah; he didn't need me."

"Leah can't be everything to him. He couldn't talk to her about his injuries."

"What are you suggesting then?" Gibbs challenged her.

"That you talk to him," Rachel said, gathering her things, "See you later, Gibbs."

* * *

In the middle of the night, Tony woke up from another nightmare, but he was in Kelly's old bedroom and he was pretty sure there wasn't any alcohol stashed in here. He would have to go the basement.

Tony knew that Gibbs was aware that he was drinking; Leah wouldn't leave that detail out. He also knew that Gibbs probably was still down in the basement, working on his boat or whatever wood working project had tickled his fancy these days. _You don't need the alcohol, come on, you're not your father!_

But, he had turned into his father, he had turned to booze to hide his feelings. Tony felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on to his chest. The one thing he had promised Leah, promised himself, that he wasn't going to become the raging alcoholic that Senior had been when he'd been growing up.

Tony glanced at the clock on the night stand. It was late. Leah wouldn't be up. But he needed to hear her voice. He reached for his phone and dialed her number. It rang for a bit and then went straight to voicemail. "Hi, I know, I know it's late… I just… I needed to hear your voice… Leah… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have called…"

He hung up quickly and threw the phone on the bed. Covering his eyes, he tried to drown out the voices in his head. When the phone rang, it startled him. Tony jumped up and grabbed it. Maybe it was work, maybe he'd be getting out of this room… "Hello?"

" _Hi sweetie,_ " Leah's voice responded, sounding concerned. " _Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah," Tony whispered. _Don't lie to her!_ "No… no…actually it's not."

" _Tony, please talk to me, please let me help you."_

"I'm my father, Leah."

She sighed, heavily. " _No. You're not. Tony, you're hurting right now, you're angry… that doesn't make you your father."_

He wanted to scream, but he didn't want Gibbs to know that he was in the middle of a breakdown. Gibbs would have Rachel up here picking his brain again. "I turned to booze, when I couldn't handle my emotions anymore, I drank. I don't know how to stop this, I don't know how to turn everything around, Leah. Somedays, I'm not sure I even want to turn it around."

Leah took a deep breath, trying to stop herself from sobbing. " _Then let's get you help. My brother knows a therapist in D.C, one who specializes in PTSD."_

"PTSD? Is that what I have?"

" _Possibly. Think about it, Tony you went through a massive tramuatic event—months after your watched Gibbs get shot."_

"Leah… I don't know…"

" _Please, Tony, please…will you at least go talk to him… for me?"_

Tony sighed and took a deep breath. "Yeah…I'll go talk to him… for you." _Maybe in the process it will help me as well._

* * *

Early the next morning, Tony found Gibbs at the dining room table, a newspaper in his hand, a cup of coffee at his side. Strangely the familiar sight brought a lot of comfort to the senior field agent. It gave him hope that, maybe, perhaps he could return to something normal. "Hey, boss," he said, joining Gibbs.

Gibbs looked up from his paper. "'Morning. Sleep okay?" he asked the younger man, even though he was aware of the dark circles underneath Tony's eyes.

"About the same since January," Tony answered honestly.

"It wasn't your fault, Tony," Gibbs assured him.

He winced and stared at his mug. Tony was starting to see that, slowly. Being back on the job was opening his eyes to the ebb and flow of life again, that sometimes things were completely out of his hands. "I know, boss," he said, softly. "At least, I'm starting to think _I know._ "

Taking a sip of his coffee, Gibbs nodded his head. "Good. You're a hell of an agent, Tony. I would hate for this to keep you down—even the best agents get taken off guard. It happened to me, to Franks… you can't prepare for everything."

Tony subconsciously played with the wedding band on his finger. "I know she called you. Ziva. Abby told me. So, when Ziva called, and asked about Leah… what… what did you tell her?" he questioned, changing the subject.

Gibbs sighed and folded his paper up. "I told her the truth, Tony. It took you a long time to even think about going on a date, that you had been blaming yourself for the decisions she made… I told her that Leah fixed a broken man and her heart was pure."

"Did she ask if I was happy?"

"She did and she was glad that you were. She didn't want you wasting your life away over her."

"Sometimes… I think about if she had picked up the phone that night I called her…"

"You told her you met someone. She knew that you never would have told her if you didn't think it was serious."

Tony stared at his coffee. Meeting Leah had been a life altering, lifesaving event for him. He had been backed into such a dark place by Ziva's rejection. Leah had pulled him from the darkness, showing him that love was still possible for him. "As much as I loved her, it wouldn't have worked out. Ziva… and I...we're too much alike...we would have fought all the time..."

Gibbs stood up and went to pour himself some more coffee. "So why do you keep beating yourself up about it, Tony?" he asked honestly when he sat back down.

He laughed, angrily. "Good question. You know, for all intents and purposes, I shouldn't be beating myself up. It's clear that Ziva didn't love me, at least not in the same way I loved her, no matter how many times Abby wants to insist that she did. Maybe I'm beating myself up because I took a lot of risks out there in Israel. I risked my career lying to you, and even though I knew it was wrong to take advantage of someone so obviously in pain, I didn't care. I slept with her as a last-ditch effort to keep her with me."

"DiNozzo, you were emotionally compromised. Desperate. If Jenny had given me the chance, instead of the _Dear John_ letter, I might have done the same as you," Gibbs confessed, watching Tony's green eyes soften.

"I walked around the Middle East in a haze that summer. Why didn't you pull me?" Tony asked, searching Gibbs eyes. "I mean… I had to be showing the signs of going crazy."

Gibbs sighed and shrugged. "Nothing was going to pull you from Israel. You had to come to the end of the road on your own, not with me yanking you out of there."

Tony pushed his coffee mug away from him and ran his hands over his face. "Always a bad idea to put two emotionally compromised people, who are sexually attracted to each other, on a farm—alone."

"You're only human."

"Don't feel human right now."

"Give it time," Gibbs assured him. _You'll get back to feeling human again, Tony, promise._

"Are you mad at me?" Tony asked, catching him off guard. "I mean, about Ziva?"

"Why would I be mad?" Gibbs inquired. "Ziva made her choices."

Tony licked his lips. "Just feels like some days… you are. When I was in the hospital I kept hearing about how worried you were, but you barely showed up to visit me."

Gibbs regretted that Tony's injuries had happened during some of his darkest days of his own recovery. "No, Tony, I wasn't mad at you about Ziva. She couldn't be an agent anymore and she felt that she didn't belong here in D.C. Like I said, she made her choices. We have to live with them."

His eyes grew moist, filled with tremendous sadness. "Are you angry at me about Budd?"

Every emotion he'd felt about his life and death experience, hit Gibbs full bore. He buried the intense emotions and said, "Yes. At first I was but I was angry about everything last year, Tony."

"So… why take it out on me? _That_ hurt."

"You… were the easy target. I'm sorry, Tony."

"I needed you, I needed you, and you weren't there," Tony whispered, trying to hide the vulnerability in his voice. "Leah was… she was great… but I needed the man that was the closest thing I had to a father… and you weren't there."

"I'm here now, Tony," Gibbs said, gripping the younger man's shoulder tightly. "I know it doesn't make up for last year, and I don't expect you to forgive me… but I want you to know that I'm here, now. I'm going to help you through this, with Leah and Rachel—Tim, Ducky… do you understand? You're not in this alone."

Tony swallowed the bile in his throat. "I think… I think I'm starting to understand."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder reassuringly. "Good. That's a good start, Tony."

He took a shuddering breath. It might be a good start, but was it enough? At this point, Tony wasn't sure. He felt that same ache for Leah that he'd felt yesterday at Graham Milton's house. "I miss Leah, boss. Last night, I just wanted to hold her to make me feel better." _I even called her well past midnight just to hear her voice..._

His hand didn't leave Tony's shoulder. Gibbs could understand the ache for the woman he loved—unfortunately in his case, the woman that he ached for was no longer alive. For Tony, however, Leah was very much alive. "She's coming home today, remember?"

"It will still be at least another day before I _see_ her," Tony lamented. "I can't… I can't stop this if she isn't here."

"No, but you can start, Tony," Gibbs told him. "Stay here again tonight."

"So I can chat with Rachel?"

"Did it help?"

"A little… I think… I'm not sure."

"Then, yes, so you can chat with Rachel."

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Gibbs cell phone rang. He downed the rest of his coffee while the team leader chatted on the phone. Listening in on the conversation, Tony got the impression he was going to need it—it was going to be a long day.

Gibbs returned, silently putting his phone back into his pocket. He gazed at Tony, noticing the dark circles underneath the younger man's eyes. He was pushing Tony to take on too much. "You know, I've got some things that need to be done around the house…"

His green eyes filled with understanding. Tony glanced around. "Noticed the living room needs a fresh coat of paint… maybe some color, to you know, brighten the place up a bit. Always felt like a cave in here, boss."

He was happy to see some sense of humor. Perhaps it meant that Tony was crawling his way back. Gibbs reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He threw some money on the table. "Here, knock yourself out."

"Are you giving me the day off to _paint?_ "

"I'm giving you the day off to give you some time. I need to stop pushing you, Tony."

"How many times should I expect a phone call today?"

"Nothing too wild on the color, DiNozzo. Watch your six."

Tony smiled, sadly. "Don't worry boss. I'll make sure I have my weapon on me at all times.

Gibbs hesitated for a moment. "If you need to talk…"

"I promise I'll call," Tony assured him.

Giving a little nod of his head, Gibbs grabbed his gear and headed out to NCIS. He was concerned for Tony but he knew that smothering his SFA was not going to help. It would just alienate Tony from him even more. He needed to work on building up Tony's trust in him once again, prove to him that he was going to be there, because he had not been there when Tony had been injured.

Tony sighed once Gibbs was gone. He slowly was starting to feel like he was worth something again, seeing that the team leader was worried he might think about ending his life. Deep down inside the senior field agent had already decided that committing suicide was not going to solve anything. In fact, Tony had come to realize that it would only make matters worse.


	9. Chapter 9

Tony changed before going into NCIS. Nothing fancy, just a fresh pair of jeans and a polo shirt, but all signs that he had been painting were gone. "What's the emergency?" he asked, anxiously upon arriving.

Tim glanced up from the plasma screen to see his partner enter the bullpen. In the last hour they had complied a horrific amount of evidence to suggest that Merchant had not been working alone the last few months before he was released from prison. Series of unfortunate "accidents" had occurred to many people _not_ directly connected to the case. "We have a serious issue," he said.

"How serious?" Tony inquired, as a sickening feeling crept into his stomach.

"Merchant's not just targeting the people involved in this case; he's targeting their families," Ellie answered.

"In the last month alone, four separate people have died from suspicious causes but police never found any evidence," Tim said, stepping aside to let Tony look at the plasma screen.

Tony could feel his throat tightening. This new piece of information clearly put Leah and Jack in harm's way. _And they're heading home to D.C as we speak._ "Are we sure? The only connection these people have is that they were close family and friends of those involved in the case."

Ellie glanced at Tim. "Well… the more information we dug up, the more we found out _who_ Merchant was sharing rehabilitation time with—these deaths match the M.O's for four different murderers in the same program as him."

"Great. He's supplying these guys with new victims," Tony hissed.

"Looks that way," Ellie said.

"Any idea where Merchant is. I'd like to take him out myself."

"Gibbs headed over to the rehab facility with Fornell. They had fresh new arrest warrants for those four."

"He's hoping one of them flips on Merchant."

Tony felt like breaking something. That anger, the one that he had just talked about with Rachel, began to bubble up inside of him. If he wasn't careful, he was going to blow up. "Maybe I should find the idiot judge who thought it would be a good idea to put Merchant into a minimum security facility."

Tim tossed the clicker onto his desk and was going to sit down as he murmured, "He had an ankle monitor. Metro was supposed to keep an eye on him…"

Before he knew what was happening Tony was in his face, inches away from him. "An ankle monitor? For a serial killer? Do you think that's a good solution, Agent McGee!"

Never in his time on the team had Tim seen Tony this enraged. It was like something inside the other agent had finally snapped, unleashing a firestorm. "What? No! Come on, Tony… you know me better than that! Listen… we can't change the judge's decision… all we can do is find Merchant and arrest him and make sure he doesn't get out of jail the next time."

"Simple as that, huh?" Tony asked, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "Guess you would think so since Delilah is safe."

"Tony," Gibbs voice was barely audible, or that could have been because Tony had just been shouting. "My office, now."

Glaring heavily at Tim, Tony spun on his heel and stormed off towards the elevator. Tim stood there at his desk, mouth hanging open slightly, blinking rapidly. "Boss, I…"

Gibbs waved him off. "Not your fault, McGee. Keep working. I'll cool him down," he said, before following Tony into the elevator.

Tony was standing in the corner with his back to Gibbs, appearing to do some breathing exercises. The team leader closed the elevator door and flipped the emergency switch. He stood there, patiently waiting for Tony to speak. "I'll break his neck," the senior field agent finally said.

"Whose? Merchant's or Tim's?" Gibbs asked, attempting some humor to lightening the mood.

"Merchant's," Tony snapped, turning about to face Gibbs', "If he comes near Leah or my son…"

"Fornell and I have discussed putting them in a safe house," the former marine replied, calmly.

"Not your house I hope. No offense, but your house hasn't had a great track record when it serves as a safe house. I want my family safe."

"Already sent a team to clean the cabin."

"Really?" Tony scoffed. "Your cabin? What am I supposed to do with a toddler son in a one room cabin?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs sighed, resisting the urge to head slap him, "not _my_ cabin."

He was breathing heavily. Tony felt helpless. His family was in danger and he wasn't with them to protect them. He couldn't lose them now, he was fighting so hard for them. "I'm going with them," he stated. "Put me on their protection detail or I walk, Gibbs."

It had never even crossed his mind to not put Tony on the protection detail of Leah and Jack. Fornell had questioned it, given Tony's current mental state, but the former marine knew his senior agent; he knew that Tony was the best man for the job. "I know."

Tony set his jaw. _That was too easy,_ he thought. "You know something," he said, reading Gibbs silent gestures. "You found out something when you went to that rehab."

Gibbs didn't reveal much in his expressions or body language. He didn't have too, Tony had already figured things out, put the pieces together that he knew more than he was letting on. "Merchant was tipping these guys off to fresh victims. Those four other killers have been taken back to maximum security but we can't be certain where Merchant is heading next; they haven't seen him at the rehab center for days. For all we know, Leah is his next target."

"Over my dead body," Tony snarled.

"Not going to come to that," Gibbs said. _At least it better not._

"This is my wife and son; NCIS cannot botch this, Gibbs!"

"We're doing our best to stay a step ahead of Merchant, Tony."

Tony threw him a glare, green eyes smoldering with fury. "Do you even understand what's at stake!" he shouted, his voice deep and gruff. "Do you get what's happening to me!"

Gibbs thought back to Shannon, telling him that everything was going to be fine, that NIS was keeping them safe from the drug cartel… "I lost my family while they were in protective custody, Tony. I absolutely know what's at stake… what's happening to you right now."

He reeled back, rocking on the balls of his feet. Tony suddenly felt like a dumb ass. Of course Gibbs knew. If anyone on his team knew how he was feeling at the moment it was Gibbs. "Boss… I'm sorry… I forgot… I didn't mean to imply that you don't get this."

"It's fine, DiNozzo."

"No! It's not! Shannon and Kelly… they were your girls… Shannon was your soulmate."

"And I've… come to grips with it. Tony, I can't change what happened to Shannon and Kelly," Gibbs said. "But I can make sure that Leah and Jack do not meet the same fate. Ok? Let's focus on our job, not the past."

"Focusing, boss, promise," Tony whispered. _If only I could get a hold of my damn emotions!_ "It's… hard, boss. They're my family… I don't know what I would do if I lost them."

Gibbs took a deep breath, vowing that it was going to do whatever it took to make sure that nothing happened to Leah and Jack—that nothing happened to Tony.

* * *

It was close to eight when Leah pulled into the driveway. Shutting the car down, she sighed, exhausted, but happy to be home. Looking in the backseat, Lincoln gazed back at her with his big brown eyes, tail wagging; Jack was fast asleep, head titled at an awkward angle and softly snoring. "Welcome home," she whispered.

Jack whined in his sleep and the dog gently laid his head across the toddler's lap. Leah smiled and decided that it was time to get them into the house. She got out of her car, shut the door, and headed around to the back to pop the trunk open. Leah had just opened the trunk door when headlights moved across the driveway. Turning, she saw a car pull in behind her.

Tony got out of the passenger side. "Don't unpack. Just get back in the car and come with me."

Leah was confused. "Why?"

"We're staying at Gibbs' tonight."

"I'd rather just stay here..."

Tony moved towards her, grabbed her by the arm, roughly, and steered her in the direction of the driver's seat. "It's not up for debate. Get in the car and drive to Gibbs' house."

Leah wasn't happy with his rough treatment of her. She was about to reprimand him on and then she remembered the suicide note in her purse—she couldn't afford to get angry at him. "Fine. I'll see you there," she said, giving in and closing the door shut. She watched as Tony slammed the trunk door closed and then got back into the Charger.

As it pulled out of the driveway, she glanced at the dog. "Guess we're going to Gibbs' house instead. Don't worry, he likes dogs. You're going to love him."

* * *

Early the next morning NCIS transported Leah and Jack to the safe house they referred to as _the cabin._

It was an old house, hidden by trees and hedges that had not been trimmed for years. At one point the Victorian home had probably been a bright shade of yellow, but now it was diluted thanks to years of being exposed to the elements, peeling away in some places. Leah wasn't sure why the agents referred to this house as _the cabin_ until she got inside and saw that there was no paint on the walls, just exposed wood planks and beams. It felt like a cabin…

Leah set their bags down and held tightly to Jack. This house was not childproof. She was nervous about putting her baby boy down and letting him take off and explore. He was just like his father, he would find some kind of trouble to get into.

The heavy front door shut them inside. Leah heard the locks as they slid into place. She glanced at Tony going from window to window to draw the sheer curtains closed.

"Agents are posted outside. Don't be alarmed if you see someone walk by the window," he informed her. "They're just there to make sure you're safe."

"How long do you think we're going to be here?" Leah asked, her voice wavering slightly. "It's just that this house… I'm not sure how safe it is for Jack…"

Tony stepped towards her and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I went through the house myself last night and made sure all the outlets were plugged and cleaning materials were out of the reach of little hands."

Leah looked down at Jack, who smiled sweetly at her. Maybe it wasn't exposed outlets or chemicals in the reach of her son that was causing the root of her fear… _perhaps the serial killer targeting them, the idea that this case could severely hurt Tony's road to recovery…_ "I just wish we could go home…"

He reached out with his free arm and pulled her close to him, pressing her tightly into the nook between his arm and shoulder. "You're safer here."

She turned her face towards him and buried it against his shirt. "I know," she whispered. "It feels like it's never ending, we move from one crisis to the next. When is it going to stop?"

Truth was, Tony didn't know. He had no answer to give her. They were in desperate need of turning a new leaf, he just wasn't sure how they were going to accomplish that at this point. Right now, if felt like the world was firing everything it had in its arsenal at them and they would be lucky to make it out alive.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony made one more round through the house before he went into the bedroom for the evening. He made sure the locks on the window were right, the drapes were drawn and then closed the door, latching the lock. A little added protection, one more barrier for Merchant to get through, wouldn't hurt.

Leah sighed on the small, full sized bed, and rolled over onto her back. Her hair covered half her face and she was breathing deeply, evenly. Nearby, in a portable crib Jack dreamed peacefully; Lincoln sleeping at the base.

He took a deep breath, placed his weapon on the night stand and then stretched out next to his wife. Tony pushed the loose hair aside so he could see her whole face. Her eyes fluttered open when his touch stirred her awake. "Sorry," he whispered, "didn't mean to wake you up."

She smiled at him, still half asleep. It wasn't going to take a long time for her to go back to sleep… it had been a battle getting Jack down for the night, bathing him in the tight little tub had proven to be a challenge and he had drained her of any energy she had left at that point. "It's okay," she whispered back, with a smile. "I missed falling asleep with you next to me."

"The man who was sleeping on the sofa every night, Leah, wasn't me," Tony said, running his fingers through her hair.

"I know. _This_ is the man I missed," Leah said, kissing him tenderly.

Tony wrapped her in his arms, watching as she snuggled close to him and fell back to sleep. He always had a strong desire to protect her, but as she slept, safely tucked against him, the desire only grew. He would do _anything_ to keep her safe from Merchant.

In the last few months he had lost sight of the center of his world—Leah and his son. Tonight, they were clearly back in his focus, the entire reason he was still breathing and fighting.

* * *

_You promised me, Gibbs,_ Tony's voice said somewhere in the dark recess of his mind, _you promised me they would be okay, and now they're gone. My family's dead! I have nothing!_

Gibbs sat up on the autopsy table, gasping for breath and somewhat startling Ducky and Jimmy who were getting ready to start their day nearby. Clutching at his chest, Gibbs took deep breaths like his therapist had taught him when he suffered a panic attack and he felt his heart rate returning to normal.

Ducky cleared his throat, "Good morning, Jethro. Are you… alright?"

"Fine," Gibbs said, shaking his head to clear it of the image of Tony covered in blood, grieving over the death of his family.

"You look like you could use some water, Agent Gibbs," Jimmy said.

"What I need is coffee," Gibbs snapped. _And to find Tommy Merchant before he gets his bloody hands on Leah._

Jimmy smiled eagerly and said he could do that. Before Gibbs could protest the young man was off and running and there was really no stopping him.

Gibbs smiled, slightly, and then it faded as he became aware of all the aches and pains in his body. He groaned and massaged his neck.

Ducky clicked his tongue. "You really are getting too old to be sleeping on one of my tables, Jethro."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "But it was a late night making sure the safe house and protection details were in place."

"Are Leah and Jack safe?" Ducky questioned, softly.

"Tony took them to the safe house this morning," the team leader confirmed. "Agents are posted outside around the clock."

The M.E could tell that the former marine was not comfortable; something was bothering him. His voice was strained and the fine lines on his face very defined with worry. "Do you fear this isn't enough, Jethro?" Ducky asked, softly.

Gibbs took a shuddering breath. "There's always the chance, Duck. This is putting a lot of unnecessary stress on Tony and Leah; he was actually getting somewhere, Ducky. He could see that he needed some help and was willing to seek it out."

Ducky nodded. "Certainly this case does not help Anthony on his road to recovery. If something were to happen to Leah or to his son, it could set him back." _And that setback could come with deadly consequences._

* * *

Loud buzzers echoed off the cold, concrete walls and indicated that the guards were bringing their cooperating serial killer to meet with them.

Tim was exhausted. The team had been up most of the night pitching in on a manhunt for Tommy Merchant, but the guy was a former Eagle Scout—he knew how to go off the grid. At least they knew Leah and Jack were safe. At this point, that was all they knew… they were waiting around with baited breath for the next victim to pop up…

"So, you didn't catch him?" Ty Carter said with a sly grin. "Knew it wouldn't be _that_ easy."

"Make it easier than," Tim snapped. "Did Merchant tell you where he was going?"

"Come on, man, I told you yesterday that Tommy only told me he was going after the damn Fed's wife," Carter said.

Ellie clenched her fists underneath the table. "Yes, you told us that already. But that couldn't have been the only thing that he told you, being in rehab together. If you cooperate with us we might be able to help you."

Carter scoffed and then laughed, harshly. "I'm already headed for the needle. Really, you have no carrots to dangle in front of me, lady."

Tim was starting to get angry. _Tony would have snapped his neck by this point._ "A young woman and a young child are in danger, the decent thing to do here is to help us catch the guy that wants to hurt them."

"I've been locked up, with no contact with the outside world, since yesterday," Carter snapped at him. "You know what that means right? No emails, no phone calls—no text messages. Now, that doesn't cover ESP…"

"Forget it, Ellie, we're not going to get anything out of this smart ass," Tim snapped, standing up. He signaled for the guard to take Carter back to his cell. "Guess he doesn't want a reduced sentence for life, instead of the death penalty after all."

Carter's dark eyes went wide. "Wait!" he shouted as the guards grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. "Merchant didn't give me an exact location, but he mentioned something about Spencer; said he was heading in that direction..."

Ellie was confused. "Spencer?"

Tim mulled it over and then it hit him. "Spencer Street; it's in Tony and Leah's neighborhood."

"So that confirms it—he's going after Leah."

"Yeah. We made the right move getting her into a safe house."

"How long until Merchant realizes though that Leah isn't at home?" Ellie questioned.

"No idea," Tim said with a shake of his head. His phone rang. Glancing at the screen he saw that it was from Gibbs. He felt his stomach drop, knowing what it meant—they had another body.

* * *

Leah had fallen asleep with Jack after lunch.

Tony wasn't thrilled with the silence in the house once his family went to take a nap, those silly voices came back, this time however, they were not talking about baby-proofing and paint colors…

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts—and the voices—Tony went into the kitchen and used the ancient Mr. Coffee to make a pot of his favorite brew. While he waited for the coffee pot to even begin to percolate—it was slower than a snail—he sat at the counter, tapping his fingers on it.

Outside he could see the outline of the agent posted in the backyard. Tony didn't feel safe. He felt out of control.

"Damn it!" Tony yelped when, suddenly, Leah's cell phone started ringing, cutting through the intense silence.

He jumped from his seat and found her purse, rummaging around in it for the phone. Tony didn't want it to wake the baby up from his nap—it taken Leah nearly an hour to get him to sleep. Receipts, lip gloss—other things he considered unnecessary went flying all over the counter, until he found the phone and hit _decline._

Tony sighed in relief when the house went silent again and he didn't hear a little voice coming from the bedroom. He looked down at the mess he had made on the counter as the coffee pot _finally_ started percolating.

Leah was normally so neat and tidy, but her purse… that was an entirely different story.

Gathering up the various papers, her wallet and checkbook, he started to put things away, until a folded up piece of paper caught his eye. It was notebook paper, so it wasn't a receipt, and he knew for a fact any lists that she made she kept on her phone or her iPad….

Curious he opened it up and felt his heart leap into his throat…

"Is that coffee I smell?" Leah asked, sleepily as she entered the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and found two mugs. "The beds aren't very comfortable, but at least there's coffee." When she turned towards the refrigerator to get the milk, she noticed him standing there, eyes filled with horror. "Anthony?"

"You found this? How long… how long have you been carrying this around in your purse?" Tony asked, hoarsely, holding up the suicide note he had written. Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip quivered, but she didn't answer. "Leah! How long have you have been carrying this around?"

Leah swallowed her tears. "I found it… I found it while we were packing to leave the Cape. It was in… it was in with your clothes."

Tony had never wanted her to find it, once he had made the decision that suicide was not going to solve anything. He crushed the note up in his hand and went to her, gathering his wife into his arms and holding onto her, tightly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear, "I'm so sorry that you had to find that… that I wasn't strong enough…"

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and buried her nose in the fabric. Why she had kept the note, she really wasn't sure. "Oh, Tony, you are strong enough—you didn't do it."

He let a few tears fall and clung to her as if his very life depended on it. "I'm fighting for you," he whispered, echoing sentiments he'd whispered to Ziva three years ago.

"I know, Anthony," Leah said, kissing his chest. "Let me fight _with_ you."

_That_ was something Ziva had not said to him three years ago. She had seen before he did that while they loved one another—they were not each others true love. _Tony,_ he heard Ziva saying to him, _she is your soulmate, your love, let her fight with you._

Leah was pulling away from him, she smiled at him through watery eyes and smoothed his hair back. "Are you ever going to let me at least trim your hair?"

Tony smiled at her, lovingly. "When this thing is over and we're back in our house, yes. But you don't think it makes me a little sexy?"

"Well… I do like it a little long… but you're getting close to eighties rock star here," Leah teased.

"Maybe I'm going to leave NCIS and start a cover band," Tony teased back.

She was about to tell him how good it was to hear him joking with her, when the lock on the front door jingled. Immediately the smile faded from his face, he had drawn his weapon and was shoving her behind him…

Gibbs stepped through the front door with a bag of groceries. "Hey. Thought you'd need supplies."

Tony sighed and put his weapon back in the holster. "Thanks, boss."

"Figured I'd come check in. Everything going okay?"

"Fine. We were just going to have some coffee."

"Guess I showed up at the right time."

Leah laughed, softly, and went to find another mug. She retrieved the pot that was finally done and poured Gibbs his signature black cup of coffee. She then went to prepare two more mugs the way she and Tony liked it.

Tony stared at his mug for a long while before he crossed the kitchen, slammed his foot down on the pedal that opened the garbage can, and furiously tore the piece of paper in his hand. He let the small pieces float into the trash and then he closed the lid, looking up at his wife.

Gibbs watched, puzzled, and then saw the tears in Leah's eyes. When Tony moved towards her, pressed his lips to hers in quick, hard kiss—he knew—Tony had destroyed the suicide note. He felt a tremendous sense of relief; Gibbs wasn't sure what had kept the younger man from going through with it… he was glad that _something_ had stopped Tony.

"Mama?" Jack called from the bedroom. Little feet suddenly could be heard in the hallway and the little boy appeared. "Mama?"

"Hi, baby," Leah said, smiling at him. "I see you escaped that crib."

Jack rubbed his eyes, and whimpered a little. "Hungee," the little boy said, looking at Leah and then the two men.

Leah picked him up and found some fresh strawberries in the bag of groceries that Gibbs had brought by. She put Jack in the old high chair and began to cut the strawberries into bite sized pieces for him

Tony watched them, smiling, with a bittersweet look in his eyes. Leah and his son had been why he didn't follow through and kill himself, why he had torn the note up now. It broke his heart to think of what would happen to them if he wasn't around.

Gibbs cell rang. The team leader dug it of his pocket, and flipped it open. "Yeah, Gibbs," he answered. His face went taut as he listened and then with a heavy sigh, he said, "Don't touch anything. I'll be there soon."

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains elements from an original already posted. It will deal with mental illness/depression/suicidal thoughts, so if these things trigger you, please feel free to skip over this story. It was partially inspired by a David Cook song "Heartbeat" and the TV show "A Million Little Things." Let me know what you think. Looking forward to sharing more in this verse with you.


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